The Flower Of London
by TheMaraudersAreUpToNoGood
Summary: AU 1871. Lillian Evans is nothing more than a mere speck of dust in the society of London whereas Lord James is the Potter heir. Lives coincidently collide in an act of fate; that fate existing in the form of a small child.


**Prologue;**

The girl crouched low between the darkened buildings, her cloaked back to the wall, her figure hunched. Many would've mistaken her for an elderly person from the way she stood, though she was anything but. The heavy and matted cloak hid the flaming red hair and emerald eyes below, covering every inch of porcelain, white skin.

She watched the public pass, weary eyes trained on the shadows that moved along the cobbled stones of London. The area was mostly empty; the square void of most activity although distant, shouting voices and hoof clicks could be heard. Though every noise still caused the girl's heart to jump within her chest and every voice sent the blood rushing from her hands, leaving them numb.

She adjusted the cloak over her head with one hand, while the other held the bundle within her arms tightly to her bosom. It was a small bundle, no bigger than a leather satchel. It shifted in her hold, the rags falling away slightly to reveal the innocent face of an infant. His eyes were shut lightly, pink mouth puckered between two rosy cheeks. The girl gazed down at the innocence in her arms, her delicate lips forming an affectionate and loving smile.

But the silent moment was broken the second the girl heard footsteps approaching, and without a look down the alley, she disappeared around the corner.

ooooo

It began to annoy her, the countless times she saw the lone figure circling the back streets of London. After the second time, Lady Evelyn had begun counting but had at one point lost track of the many times the figure passed through her vision. She couldn't for the life of her comprehend why it irritated her to such an extent.

Lady Evelyn, was a delicate woman of high class; her hair done just so and her clothes fitted in just the right manner. Her tea spoon never batted the side of her tea cup when she drank and her voice was consistently calm and fair. Brought up in one of the noblest families in all of England, she practically had a spine of steel yet hands of feathers.

The carriage she currently perched herself in bounced along the cobblestones, the horses breaths breathing steam as they trot through the layer of slush on the street. Lady Evelyn adjusted her hat and glanced out the window absently, watching the unfortunate pedestrians pass by and feeling fortuitous to have a roof protecting her from the brutal weather.

The driver veered the carriage left and onto a less crowded street, the wheels sliding somewhat along the road. Evelyn breathed deeply to steady herself before picking up the parcels that had fallen to the floor beside her, replacing them in their rightful place on the seat. Her gaze then flickered to the dreary London beyond her window, just in time to see the cloaked figure once again.

It was hunched over, it's back turned towards her and the weather as it huddled into the alcove of a building.

When asked in the future what had persuaded Evelyn to call out to the driver and then venture from the safety of her carriage to inspect the stranger, she would reply saying it was merely a woman's curiosity.

The cloak that draped over Evelyn's shoulders was no match for the ferocity of the sleet that pelted into the cloth. She hurried forward anyway, her shoes slipping and sliding in an unladylike fashion despite her best efforts. She heard the driver jump down from his perch but he remained where he was, adjusting his own coat.

The figure had not moved, although its shoulders were shaking violently. Evelyn reached forth with her delicately gloved hand, fabric resting against fabric as she tugged gently at the cloak. The figure froze; spine and shoulders stiffening at the contact.

For an instant Evelyn felt fear sink into her skin like the rain into her cloak, but she tugged gently again, silently demanding the figure to reveal itself. Slowly, as if reading her mind, the person turned towards her, icy droplets dripping from the hood of their cloak and onto porcelain white skin. Soaked scarlet locks fell away to reveal a panicked expression of a young girl, emerald eyes swimming fearfully.

"Are you alright?" Evelyn asked loudly over the clatter of the rain, yet she kept her voice as soft as possible, for she didn't wish to frighten the girl further.

The girl did not respond more than a blink, in which her eyes flicked down to a bundle in her arms that had gone unnoticed by Evelyn before. The fabric was mostly dry; Evelyn suspected the girl had used her body as a main shelter.

She glanced back up to the girl's face which filled with conflict. She seemed to be wagering between two choices as the two women were brutalized by the weather further. Then, without a second thought, the girl thrust the bundle towards Evelyn, imploring her to grasp it.

"Take him, please," the girl voiced, her tone hollow." I-I... Please take him."

When Evelyn caught sight of the child bundled up in cloth her hands automatically enclosed around him as it dawned on her exactly what the girl was begging. She tucked the boy beneath her cloak securely, feeling him squirm against her chest.

Her eyes returned to the girl whose gaze had not left the boy, her face contorting into a look of anguish. Evelyn's mouth opened slightly. She was speechless as her body filled with sympathy for this defeated girl before her. There was only one thing for her to do.

Adjusting the child in her arms she urged the girl towards her carriage with gentle nudge, following closely behind. The girl hesitated, but soon came to the conclusion that the carriage was the best decision. When the door was shut behind them by the driver, Evelyn removed the hood of her cloak and once again adjusted her hat.

Her eyes locked with the girl across from her." I hope you did not expect me to just leave you out there in that weather," she smiled softly before her gaze switched to the boy in her arms who stared up at her curiously." He is a handsome little boy, I am sure he has a name to fit?"

"Zachariah," the girl spoke hoarsely, hands clenched tightly in her lap as if she were restraining herself. The carriage began to move again beneath them as the driver nudged the horses on.

"What a lovely name," said Evelyn, adjusting the boy once again so that he was staring directly at her. She noted that his eyes resembled that of the girls except a far deeper emerald." And am I correct in guessing that his mother has such a beautiful name as well?"

"Lillian... Or Lily."

"Like the flower, I should have expected as much."

"I don't wish to be rude but where would you be taking Zachariah and I?" the girl inquired tensely, her cloak still hiding most of her hair. The rest of her scarlet locks fell down to her waist in a mess of stressed curls.

Evelyn continued smiling softly." I am taking you to my home, of course."

The girl was silenced for a moment, her face vacant of any expression. Evelyn admired her for her bravery and the slight sense of defiance in her stance, despite her defeated appearance.

The carriage shuddered as it connected with the rougher roads of the countryside, leaving London in its halo of gloomy weather. The rain lightened against the window, although the falling of sky water remained consistent.

"May inquire as to what your name may be?"

"My name," Evelyn replied softly, her hand rising to caress Zachariah's soft mop of hair," Is Lady Evelyn Potter."

ooooo

_Reviews are like fresh coffee in the morning; oh so sweet. Please share your thoughts (if you liked it, if you despised it)._

_-The Marauders Are Up To No Good_


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